


Sleepless in St Kilda

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: Phryne can't sleep. Jack is helpful. Please look at the rating before getting your hopes up.For the prompts: red, apple, Dialogue: “Go to sleep now”





	Sleepless in St Kilda

**Author's Note:**

> Flash Fic entry so unbetaed. Prepare yourself, gentle reader, to see why I always need them.
> 
> Thanks to olderbynow and whopooh for organizing!

In the middle of the night, in the middle of her room, Phryne Fisher was awake. She had tried to sleep, really she had, but all attempts thus far had proved unsuccessful, and so she had eventually left her bed in an attempt to not wake her companion with her restlessness.

She had considered going downstairs - there was some more of Mr. B’s apple strudel in the ice box practically calling her name - but she had been unable to commit to just “being awake” and so she stood, halfway to the door, caught between sleep and strudel.

Feeling more than a little ridiculous, she decided to just go do _something_ , and turned toward the door. The moon was full and as she moved she caught sight of her reflection in the vanity mirror. She had removed her makeup hours ago, red lips replaced with soft pink. She’d removed her jewelry, she was wearing pajamas. She certainly _looked_ the part of sleeping lady. So what was wrong with her? Sighing to herself, she headed towards the door.

“Phryne?”

Damn.

She turned back to the bed, tone and posture both apologetic. “Oh yes. Sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just headed downstairs. Go back to sleep.”

She heard him fumbling about for his wristwatch in the dark, before turning on the lamp to read it. “It’s 3 in the morning, Phryne.”

“Is it? I stopped checking a while ago.”

Jack pulled back the doona and traveled the few steps towards her. He gently held her shoulders and made a show of examining the top of her head thoroughly.

“What on Earth are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking for your black beret or any other signs of nocturnal investigations.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry to disappoint, Inspector, but I really just can’t sleep.”

Jack frowned slightly, considering. “Phryne, you did everything you could for her.”

“I know, Jack.”

The look he gave her at that could best be described as ‘concerned incredulity’ but he wisely refrained from comment. 

“I _do_. The outcome wasn’t ideal, but it could have been worse and sometimes that's the best you get. I don’t think that’s it. I just… can’t sleep.”

“Phryne, I’ve been sharing your bed for months now, and I can’t think of another time you’ve been unable to sleep. Well,” he smiled a little smugly, “not in an unpleasant sense anyway.”

Another eye roll from her.

“Come back to bed, Phryne."

“I’ll just toss and turn and keep you awake. Best to leave you to it, so at least one of us is rested tomorrow.”

“Alright, I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m going to have to bring out the big guns. If you come back to bed, I’ll tell you a story.”

“A story? I’m not a child, Jack.”

“Of course you’re not. But why should they get all the good adventures?”

Begrudgingly, she allowed him to pull her back to bed and under the covers. Together they settled back in and got comfortable once more. Resting her head on his chest, she reached out for his hand. Jack lay back with one arm stretched behind him on the pillow, the other positioned to hold Phryne’s hand. When they were still, he began.

“Once upon a time -”

“Really? That’s how you’re going to start?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“You’re a classic.”

“I know you meant that as an insult, Phryne, but I honestly don’t see how. Also, don’t interrupt. _Ahem_. Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a beautiful sheriff who helped the people, fought for justice, and kept the land safe from harm. But the sheriff was sad, for they had known great sorrow in their life, and had decided long ago it was safest to stay **for** the people but not **of** the people. And so they lived in a large house, set away from the village, alone and vigilant.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Very. But one day, a courageous knight rode into town and -”

“Wait, I thought there was a sheriff? Are you mixing your genres, Jack? American westerns and medieval England?”

“It’s very obviously a feudal sheriff, Phryne, and what did I say about the interrupting?”

“That you love it and you love me?”

Jack tilted his head down as far as he could to glare at her, but she just smiled brightly and snuggled further into his chest. 

“ _Anyway_ , as I was saying, one day, a courageous knight rode into town in search of a quest. For this knight had traveled far and wide and now wanted more than anything to help make the world a better place. So they traveled to the sheriff’s house and pledged loyalty and fidelity to the sheriff and the town, offering their skills and service in the name of justice.”

“And what did the sheriff do?”

“Slammed the door in the knight’s face.”

“Not very nice.”

“No. But the sheriff was unwilling to risk the fate of the village to a stranger. And so they shut the knight out.”

“What did the knight do?”

“Well as I said, this knight was very brave and so they went about helping the villagers all on their own, regardless of the peril.”

“And what did the sheriff do?”

“After many months of this, the sheriff begrudgingly took the brave knight up on their offer. And together they protected the town, and each other, better than either did alone.”

Jack stopped speaking, and after a moment Phryne raised her head.

“Is that it?”

“Phryne, I’m working with a limited time frame here. You want a longer story, tell me at a reasonable hour.”

“Hmph.” She put her head back down on his chest and considered his story.

“Was that a parable?” she asked finally, playing with one of his pajama buttons. “A reminder that I’m not alone in this?”

“Perhaps. Would that be so bad?”

“No.”

Silence fell between them. Jack closed his eyes and hoped she had done the same. But after a few minutes, she spoke.

“Jack, were you the beautiful sheriff?”

“Of course,” he said, somewhat indignantly.

“Of course,” she agreed with a smile.

There was another silence, longer this time, during which Phryne felt herself settle, sleep very near.

“I liked your story, Jack.”

“I’m glad.”

“But you didn’t say ‘the end’.”

“Caught that did you?”

“Is that because our story isn’t over?”

A kiss to her hand. “Exactly.” 

A kiss to his. “I knew it.”

“Yes, you’re very clever. Go to sleep now.”

“Good night, my beautiful sheriff.”

“Good night, my brave Phryne.”


End file.
